Of Iron Roses And Paper Chocolates
by starscriptmage
Summary: For Gajevy Week 2016. Fluff and nonsense ensue when Gajeel reflects on how perfect Levy is. Prompt 1: Blanket. "It was late afternoon on Valentine's Day, Gajeel was exhausted beyond measure, and the only coherent thought he was able to keep in his mind was that he wanted to visit Levy."
1. stupid

**Prompt 1:** Blanket

It was late afternoon on Valentine's Day, Gajeel was exhausted beyond measure, and the only coherent thought he was able to keep in his mind was that he wanted to visit Levy.

He'd taken some stupid job that looked like it paid well, and had suffered several hours on the stupid train after Levy convinced him (back at the guild, when Lily had announced their request) that there was no way he could walk that far, only to find out that _some jerk had also taken the job_ AND the entire request was a hoax. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to find the offending person who'd put up the request, but he was able to find a certain fire dragonslayer. Due to some stupid misunderstanding, both he and Salamander (who'd have known? Stupid Salamander) had set out for the same job. Naturally, being just as stupid as himself, the fire dragonslayer had let himself get dragged into the horror that was transportation. But then again, when Gajeel had demanded what had possessed the dumb guy to do such a thing, he'd moaned pitifully, "Lucy made me, she said she'd treat me to dinner later." (Translation: he was indirectly going out on a date with the girl. Smart of her.)

Right. Bunny Girl. Her name was… was… Luigi, or something. Natsu's Achilles's heel. That often happened to be the case, Gajeel thought reflectively. There was some sort of saying about that. Like, 'men do stupid stuff because of their women.' Or something.

His face flushed red at the thought of him referring to Levy as _his woman_ , and Natsu's remarked (a little stupidly), "Ya still confused about the request? Your face has gone all blotchy and pink. Maybe you should use that head of yours more often. It's gotta be big for a reason, you know."

And then they'd started brawling, and then Lucy and Lily dragged them apart. But that was a minor detail, because what they had to do next was to take the train all the way back to Fairy Tail. And that was a great blow to his health, both physically and mentally, if he should say so himself. Transportation was the bane of his life. Why couldn't everyone walk, for goodness' sakes?

So he'd gone to see if Levy had any spare time on her hands - or spare plates of her cookies. Those were darn good. She always put an extra teaspoon of vanilla, a pinch of cinnamon, and more than enough chocolate chips. He didn't have a sweet tooth, but there was something that made him crave them every now and then.

Not that he wanted to see her, or any of that sentimental crap. Not that he was visiting under the pretense of craving cookies. Nope. Not at all. Not on your life.

Stupid self thinking up stupid excu - _things_.

When he stepped into the little corner of the guild that had been claimed by Levy he paused and inhaled slowly, feeling the exhaustion in his bones creak like metal against metal. It had been some anonymous idiot's idea (not his, of course, that was just plain dumb) to build a window seat by one of them huge windows so the Solid Script Mage could sit and read in peace without fear of ruining her fine eyes. Accompanied by a handmade bookshelf nearly as twice as tall as Levy herself (one of the works Gajeel prided himself on - not that he'd tell anybody, of course), it sat, tucked away, in a small nook where the usual hubbub and occasional shouts of laughter from the guild were muted and less distracting. Mirajane (who'd recently begun to wear a glint of devious plotting in her eye that made Gajeel queasy) had presented her private 'room' to the horizontally-challenged girl on her birthday, claiming that it had been crafted by a person who'd wanted to remain nameless.

Didn't stop Salamander, Ice Pants, Bunny Girl, Juvia, and basically the entire guild from waggling their eyebrows at him every time he wandered within five yards of Levy, though.

The fabric-covered folding separating Levy from the guild was half-open when Gajeel peeked around it. He sighed through his nose when he saw the mess within. Obviously she'd tried to stack her books again, as there were volumes strewn all over the floor, bookmarks falling out of their pages, dust rising lazily in the air. He tried to take a step in, and nearly stepped on some collection of stories. Growling (and hastily pulling back his foot), Gajeel was about to change his mind about visiting her at all when he saw an _angel._

Sunlight spun its way lazily around the strands of Levy's wavy hair, playing with it through the lane of glass and making her look as if she wore a halo. One hand rested on her chest, and the other hugged a book to her side fiercely, possessively, like she thought someone would take it away from her. Her soft pink lips were slightly parted, revealing a gleam of white, and her slender shoulders rose and fell with ease as she wandered deeper and deeper into dreams.

Gajeel was not a man of many words. He couldn't spout poetry off the top of his head even if he tried, and if you asked him how to compare a lovely woman to a rose in full bloom, he'd scratch his head for a few moments, scowl in frustration, then shout to mask his helpless irritation, "What kinda question is that, punk? Trying to start a fight, or somethin'?"

But when he saw that tiny figure curled up, slim fingers still gripping her book with a ferocity he'd come to acknowledge, his mind somehow turned into some sappy melted mess, and disconnected phrases like 'beautifullest creature I'd ever seen' and 'even prettier than my ugly mug in the morning' began to swim lazily around in his head. He suddenly felt his legs turning to jelly, which was stupid, because hypothetically speaking they were made of iron…

"Hair like _blueberries_ ," he babbled incoherently, struggling to form a proper sentence.

(Granted, most of these thoughts weren't exactly _romantic_ rambling, but then again, he wasn't a poet by nature, so he didn't give two turds about sounding pretty.)

Lily snorted, and he snapped back to reality. Scowling (and forcing back the ever-darkening tinge on his cheeks), he squeezed his eyes closed, then opened them again.

Well, anyway, seeing as Levy was fast asleep, and it was only late spring, he figured leaving her there without anything to protect her against the cold except her short-sleeved blouse was neither decent nor gentlemanly (again, he didn't really care about this part, but Mirajane insisted that it was an important part of treating women, and he wasn't about to contradict her - that woman was _creepy_ ).

"OI," he bellowed as quietly as he could - which was still not quiet, even though he put in the effort, "ANYBODY GOT A SPARE BLANKET?"

Mirajane looked up from polishing the wine glasses and smiled a smile that made the insides of his stomach turn colder than ice. Instantly, she began to swish her cloth so hard that the glass sparkled unnaturally in protest. Even _Elfman_ looked up, eyebrows raised, and that guy usually spent half his time making cow eyes at Tinkerbell. Or whatever her name was.

"Your mistake," Lily said unnecessarily from his shoulder.

He didn't need to be told that. The smug grins on nearly every mage in Fairy Tail's faces were already making him regret speaking so loud - or speaking at all, for that matter.

But he sucked it up, growling deep in his throat, and he'd stomped downstairs to the basement to get a blanket, and when he pounded his way back up to the first floor, cheeks flushed pink and brow creased in a tangled knot, even the _Master_ was hiding a pleased grin behind his tankard.

Stupid mages.

Pressing his lips together, Gajeel pulled back the folding door and realized to his chagrin that Levy was nearly slipping off the window seat. He slammed the folding door behind him to keep away unwanted eyes, waded through the books, and unfurled the blanket awkwardly. Gently, carefully, he tucked it over her shoulders, and shifted her into a sitting position with hesitant hands. Gradually, the usual noise and banter returned to the guild, but Gajeel realized grumpily that there was a lot more sniggering than there ought to be. And above all the voices he heard Salamander's the loudest, cackling gleefully like a half-drunken chicken.

He started clearing up the ground after grunting in irritation at Lily's knowing grin. Her books are smooth against his hands, their covers care-worn and their pages smoothed out by her fingers thousands of times again and again. _I really do need to make another bookshelf for her, she has too many of these_ , he told himself distractedly.

When Gajeel finally came to the last book and picked it up, distantly wondering if she would mind having stackable bookshelves, he flipped it open out of pure curiosity. His furious glare softened a little - it was a guide to writing love poems, and though his hands fumbled clumsily with the small, stocky volume, he wondered why Levy would own such a thing. Maybe for the sake of knowledge. Like how he bought little watches and wind-up toys to see how they worked on the inside.

The left corner of his mouth tugged up when he saw _Property of Levy McGarden_ scrawled in careful handwriting within - the letters were firm and bold. And underneath: _Elfman, if you want to borrow this, you've got to ask my permission first, I knew you took it for reference! And go look at 'Romantic Ballads Through The Years' after you read this. You need some background information, too!_

Gajeel found that he was fully grinning now. He could almost see her frowning up at Elfman reprovingly, sticking about ten other books into his hands. Was she this… caring towards everyone in the guild?

It was slightly frightening, that he thought he knew her: books, smiles, cookies, and all. But the truth was, that was only one small corner of the guild - so to speak. There was so much more, and he wanted so badly to learn everything there was about her that it made his chest hurt. What parts of her were so beautiful it would feel as if his eyes were being burned out? What parts of her would mesmerize him again and again? Gajeel saw life in black and white. Either you were a good fighter and brave, or a weakling and a coward. It was either one thing or the other. But Fairy Tail had taken his stubborn philosophy and turned it inside out, upside down. Salamander had a soul of violently flaring fire, but he became calmer than a campfire at night when he was around Bunny Girl. Ice Pants had some serious problems (his… habit, for example), and some serious strengths (like his ice-hard determination), and whenever Juvia came within four miles of him he'd jump up and run for it. But Gajeel was pretty sure he wasn't the only one who noticed his affectionate glances. And the Master. He'd been painted black by Jose, but it had taken Gajeel mere days to see that he was so many colours all together - loyal, caring, responsible, clever, strategic, calm, passionate - that it was impossible to tell the shades apart.

But Levy, to him, was the most brilliant of them all.

He suddenly noticed two large cloth-wrapped packages that he hadn't seen before. A large gift tag sat on top of it, the name _Gajeel_ written on it in fancy golden handwriting. For some reason, Gajeel's heart did a little flip, and he strode over to look at it. He snuck a look in Levy's direction - she was still sleeping - and carefully undid the fabric knots.

There was something that twinged in his stomach when he saw that the first box was a box filled with dozens of still-warm cookies. He took a deep breath and blinked rapidly to keep the dust out of his eyes; they were beginning to sting. And the second -

It was a book. Of course.

He flipped open the cover, and traced the cheerful words with a finger.

 _Happy Valentine's Day, Gajeel! Here are some chocolate chip cookies and a book for you. I hope you enjoy reading it! I have about twelve more like it in my room, so tell me if you're interested. I'll make sure to dig them out for you! -Levy_

He sucked in his breath quickly at the gilded title that stared back at him. _The History Of Metalcraft_.

Once again, that girl had made his train of thought falter, screech to a stop, and fall off the tracks. Slowly, slowly, a sentence formed in his brain, like a blurry picture turning clear. Gajeel stared at Levy's peaceful form, fishing around for the right words -

"So, you gonna go home and rest, or are you gonna make moony faces at Levy until she wakes up?" Lily said drily, breaking into his thoughts, not for the first - or last - time. "'Cause even though I'm pretty sure she won't mind, the folding door's about to collapse."

Gajeel glowered upwards, not really _that_ surprised to see dozens of faces peeking over and behind the folding door. Stupid people. Stupid curiosity. Being the nice, pleasant, well-mannered person he always was, he bared his teeth like a hungry wolf and pretended to lunge forward.

Of course, some people fell right off the chairs/other people they were standing on from fear. Gajeel chuckled darkly at their expressions. Serves them right.

Several of them laughed sheepishly. Several of them gulped in apprehension. Most of them leapt down and ran for their lives.

"WE'RE DEAD MEAT," someone shouted shrilly, and everybody stampeded back to their seats and pretended they hadn't seen a thing.

But Gajeel, giving Lily a reproachful look, wrapped his presents back up, tucked them under his arm, and strolled out the door. Seeing as it as Valentine's Day, and he didn't want the cookies to turn cold, he decided not to jump in and fight every last one of those smug losers. Besides, he knew Levy wouldn't like it if he beat up all those stupid idiots. And stupid they were - the moment they realized he wasn't going to crush their skulls against the guild floor, they grinned at each other.

" _Ya goin' soft?_ " called Natsu cheerily.

Gajeel thought about happy things. Midnight-black, strong tea with no sugar or milk. Iron against his teeth. Chocolate chip cookies. Levy's smile.

He straightened, tried to ignore all the teasing words following him all the way to the door, and tried to slacken his tightening grip on his Valentine's Day present. He wasn't a coward. But he wasn't stupid, either. Those cookies were calling his name.

So he stalked out of the guild, the last shreds of his nearly-nonexistent dignity rapidly dissipating behind him as wolf whistles and cat calls reverberated through the streets.


	2. the death of me

**Prompt 2:** I love you

This woman was going to be the death of him.

Gajeel gulped, his throat constricting painfully, and tried to take deep breaths. Calm down. He needed to calm down. Right now. Despite the fact that it was just a hug, he could feel his blood roaring in his ears, and his cheeks flushing bright crimson, and his stomach filling with what felt like giant bloodsucking bats. It didn't help that every single person in the guild was staring at them, even Wendy. Even through his confusion he could see Romeo subtly slip his hand into hers and darting a shy glance at the oblivious female dragonslayer. Sneaky little - Gajeel thought with a smirk, but it faded when he realized that wasn't the most troublesome of his problems.

Granted, it was a thank-you hug and not a stay-with-me-I-love-you hug. It made his stomach thrum with childish happiness, though, despite the fear and hesitation racing through his veins.

His mind was yelling at him to keep his cool and not freak out, but all he could do was blink stupidly and goggle at the little blue-haired, book-loving spitfire's arms around his torso.

It had been - well, like this for a really long time. Several months, in fact. Whenever he saw her his chest would grow warm and soft and he'd get butterflies like those stupid girls they called heroines. He'd clear his throat about a hundred times, and voice-crack, and fumble, and trip over nothing whatsoever. Levy was a mage, right? She must've done something to him, but he couldn't figure out what it was. What was this, anyway? Some new plague, or something? The kind that made your temperature rise like you had a fever, that made you want to drop everything and laugh and cry at the same time?

Unfortunately for him, this feeling wasn't often very pleasant. Sometimes it felt as if something large and spiky had been rammed down his throat - he could barely inhale, or even swallow. Like one of them porcupines, those were monsters. But having one of those prickly creatures in your windpipe probably didn't come with a thumping heart and shaking hands. Unless it was really wriggling in your mouth. But then again, how was he to know? He'd never gotten anything other than food and iron in his mouth, other than the time Laxus lost his temper and sent a thousand bolts of lightning into his lungs. But that was different. Obviously.

He looked down awkwardly at the peaceful face of the Solid Script mage hugging him tightly - cheeks flushed the palest rose, lips pursed in such a way that made his chest clench - and felt sparks going off in his brain.

Now, Gajeel Redfox wasn't some old wuss, like some people he could speak of. He thought - or liked to think - that he had a certain amount of courage (normal people would cower at the sight of Natsu, Laxus, Erza, and Mirajane, and though he had to admit he never wandered near the latter three if he could help it, he'd fight any of them if they asked), and passably fantastic fighting skills. He could build a giant five-seater motorcycle if he wanted, or the smallest wind-up mouse toy, even with his clumsy large hands. He was, in short, no coward, and no weakling. But this tiny pipsqueak with a heart the size of Fiore and a smile that could make a dead flower burst back into life frankly had his literal soul twisted around her tiny pipsqueak finger.

Gajeel hesitated, his brain listing hundreds of thousands of reasons why he shouldn't - but his body moved on its own. He couldn't say he hated it exactly, but his dignity - his reputation - his stupid racing pulse -

Too late for that.

Hesitantly, cautiously, he wrapped his arms around Levy, making sure not to squish her. Gingerly, he folded his hands over her shoulders and her back. Suddenly, the uncomfortable porcupine-spike feeling in his chest receded a little - it didn't disappear completely, but there was significantly less of it - and he let himself revel dizzily in the glow of blue, orange, and sunbeams so near to his heart.

Before he knew it, his face was nestled in silky, satiny waves of hair and his lips were meeting the crown of Levy's headband. She smelled like books and candles and he never wanted to let go -

I think I might be in love, he thought, and his eyelids flew open in terror. Oh. OH.

So that was why he'd been feeling funny.

Dammit.

Natsu yelped in shock and promptly fell off his chair, sending streaks of fire from his bare fingers, and similar reactions rippled through the not-so subtle onlookers. Mira dropped her glass, mouth gaping like a goldfish's. Evergreen nodded approvingly, and Elfman shot a bashful look at her. Cana fell off her wine barrel from utter surprise. Lucy laughed and smacked the table, shouting: "C'MON, HAND OVER MY 10,000 JEWELS!"

Gajeel growled and squeezed the blue-haired mage tighter to himself protectively. He almost wanted to grab the midget and run for it, but managed to contain himself.

Levy let out a squeak of surprise and glanced upwards at him, eyebrows raised in a wordless question. She sure had fine eyes. Brown, like coffee in the early hours of morning, expressive and soft and - not again. No. I'm not in - I don't - no. NO.

"What," he hissed grumpily, thinking madly, DON'T LOOK AT HER, DON'T LOOK AT HER -

"...nothing," she replied quickly, her own cheeks starting to redden. "It's just - I wasn't expecting that."

"Why shouldn't you?" Gajeel replied in a tone that said too obviously that he was trying desperately not to look embarrassed. How had he not realized? Maybe he was as stupid as Salamander had said. "Just because I don't show it a lot doesn't mean that I don't lo - "

He coughed violently and abruptly let go of Levy, eyes bulging.

NO.

Nonononono.

Tell me I didn't just say that just now.

"Huh?" she said, blinking rapidly. Gajeel nearly let out a bitter bark of laughter. Smart as she was, she didn't seem to realize what he'd nearly let slip.

He was in serious trouble. SERIOUS trouble. Why did he - was he always - what about -

"I'mgoinghomebyeseeyoulater," he squeaked in a very unmanly voice and sprinted away, breath rattling in his chest. He let himself chuckle a little - dang, that expression on her face. But he soon was brought back to cold, harsh reality: the reason for his painful and pleasant 'symptoms', the reason for him going soft, the reason why he wanted to sit down and put his head in his arms, the reason why he wanted to float high into the sky like a freaking bird -

"Dammit," he said again, desperately and happily.

It was all because of her.

And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't make himself regret, or dislike, or even push back this new feeling of tender fragile affection in his heart.

Levy might as well be the death of him one day, with her fine eyes and lovely hair and beautiful heart.

But strange as it sounded, Gajeel didn't mind. Not at all.


	3. parallels

**Prompt 3:** Children/Parenthood

Gajeel didn't care what anyone thought, motherhood fit Levy like a bolt in a wrench.

He leaned on his side, the hard wood of the doorway pressing against his hip and the smell of baby powder and applesauce alien (but welcoming) to his sensitive nose. He took a large, scalding gulp of hot, bitter tea and grinned, shoulders relaxing.

His free hand unconsciously went to the ring on his finger, one he'd crafted himself, and he rubbed it, watching the familiar sight of Levy changing his daughter's clothes. Off went the cat-patterned onesie, and on went the fluffy pajamas Lucy had given them at the baby shower. Gajeel had to admit, his wife looked far more attractive with half her hair plastered to her head with sweat, her shirt drooping with spilled baby food, and a rosy glow on her cheeks he'd found on every mother. Bunny Girl constantly visited with Salamander (the girl was growing _huge_ \- and she was only five months on) and and she always had that odd radiance, the kind that made her seem to be bursting with expectation and happiness. Or maybe it was just anticipation about the baby. He couldn't really tell.

Anyway, he preferred Levy messy and smiling any day. No - he liked her better this way. It felt like she was more… real. Close. More _his._ It made him feel that she was deliberately letting him see all her flaws and imperfections without hesitation, and that he was the only one she laid down her defenses for, and he loved her all the more for it. He liked her in half-rolled up sleeves and tangled, twisted buns. He liked her soaked with soapy water, he liked her with breadcrumbs gathering in the corners of her cheeks. He liked her, this new side of her, this lovely, caring, wild yet cautious side.

Gajeel really didn't care what people thought - whether it was when he swooped her up in his arms in front of everyone, or when he picked her nearly weightless self into the air by her waist, or when he played with strands of her hair during a conversation, or when he stared at her openly, marveling in wonder that this tiny _pixie_ of a girl, this lion-hearted, ferocious, spitfire, had chosen _him._

But hey, he liked her way of thinking and her firm, stubborn opinions. So he had no complaints whatsoever about the rings that linked them, heart and soul, together in a bond that would grow stronger and stronger through time and experience.

.

.

.

Levy didn't care what anyone thought, fatherhood fit Gajeel like a book on a shelf.

She lay back in the chair, the softness of the pillow behind her making her hum softly in exhaustion and delight. With the lights dimmed and the bedtime storybooks put back into their basket, she can feel the fuss and noise of the day fade away until all there remained was Gajeel's callused hands against her cheeks and the slight weight of her daughter lying on her lap. She pressed a smile to the tip of Gajeel's nose and he returned it without hesitation to her forehead, mouth curving into his signature half-wicked, half-earnest smirk.

Her right hand automatically went to the ring on her finger, the one Gajeel had crafted for her, and she twisted it absent-mindedly, witnessing the familiar sight of him lifting their daughter into his arms. He was so adorable when he was holding her, she thought serenely. His entire aura changed when he touched his beloved daughter. His eyes would go soft and rimmed with tears, and he'd stroke her chubby cheek with such tender carefulness Levy didn't know if she wanted to laugh or cry at the sight of this tall, manly, _tough_ dragonslayer treating his daughter like she was made of glass and gold. She kind of found him more handsome this way, with his hair matted with sweat and grease, and his shirt splotchy with stray drops of milk, and his face wearing an expression of unrelenting, unquenchable, unconditional love. If you'd asked Levy years ago what she thought of the boys in Fairy Tail, she'd admit some were very charming and others jaw-droppingly good-looking, but now, all she'd do was give you a large, unrestrained grin, and reply that the best-looking, most amazing male in the entire world was the ill-tempered, denser-than-rock iron dragonslayer.

Anyway, she preferred him messy and smiling any day. No - in fact, she preferred it. She could think up hundreds of words to describe him - she'd tried her best before to describe Gajeel. But no matter how many books she'd read, or would read in the future, or how hard she tried to explain how imperfectly flawless he was, she just couldn't. She liked him sarcastic and rough and she liked him blunt and truthful. She liked him with his hair shoved unceremoniously into a fluffy, ragged ponytail. She liked him with his hair down, and the ceaseless complaining that came with it. She liked him grinning smugly down at her, and she liked him smiling softly, so childish and mature at the same time. She liked him, this new side of him, this vulnerable, fragile, curious yet careful side.

Levy really didn't care what people thought - whether it was when she pulled him down by the collar and crashed their lips together, or when she hugged him so hard in front of countless people she heard his breath hitch, or when she stroked his rough fingers during a conversation, or when she stared at him openly, treasuring the precious thought that this beautiful, awkward, slightly crude but wonderfully humorous, overprotective, extremely possessive, absolutely _amazing_ man with the heart of a dragon had chosen _her_.

But honestly speaking, she liked his way of thinking and his stubborn, dogged opinions. So she had no complaints whatsoever about the rings that linked them, heart and soul, together in a bond that would grow stronger and stronger through time and experience.


End file.
